


Dinner and a Movie

by ddagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Movie Night, Old Friends, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events on the Iliad, Phil and Melinda decide to make some changes to their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner and a Movie

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> I wrote this fic in the hope that it would get me out of my post SDCC funk. So far it's worked. It's set post season two, inspired by theories for season three (but no spoilers). Note this is a Philinda friendship fic. Romance is more of a third date kind of thing ; ) I hope you enjoy!

Being Director of SHIELD would never be a nine to five job. But as the minute hand ticked around the clock face to five o’clock, Director Phil Coulson was really hoping his meeting would finish soon. He and Skye were in his office, discussing their recruitment options for Operation Caterpillar. They had been at it for an hour, beginning with names from the Index. It was a short list. But apparently not short enough.

 

“Okay, Skye, I think that’s enough for today.”

 

Skye looked up from the files; face knotted in confusion. “But we’ve still got another seven names to discuss.”

 

Phil admired Skye’s dedication. Ever since the Iliad, her sole focus had been on setting up this new team of super powered individuals. He wasn’t sure whether it was the mission that drove her, or whether it was simply a distraction from the mystery of Simmons’ disappearance. Either way, they weren’t machines. They deserved some time to themselves. Standing up from his desk, Phil intended to suggest just that.

 

“We’ll pick it up tomorrow morning. Get some rest; eat something that isn’t a power bar. Maybe watch a movie, hack into the Pentagon.” He paused, waiting for Skye to smile. “Whatever you do to relax. Just do it.”  

 

Skye gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

 

Phil quickly gathered his belongings in preparation for a speedy exit. He would need to slip out the back into his private quarters so he could change before his evening plans. But Skye was in no hurry. She hesitated in the door frame, unsure of which direction to go. “Skye?”

 

“Do you-do you know when May’s coming back?”

 

“She’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

 

“Oh.” Skye swallowed. “Good.”

 

Since the Iliad, their once bottled team had split off onto separate seas. He and Skye were working on Operation Caterpillar. Bobbi was based on the Iliad permanently with Mack and Fitz, investigating the Kree Rock and trying desperately to find Simmons. May was out with Hunter and Agent Carter, tracking down another piece of their splintered team. Tomorrow morning things would feel more normal. But they were still a long way from having everyone home.

 

Phil squeezed Skye’s shoulder as he joined her in the door frame. “Don’t worry; she’ll be back in one piece. She’s been asking about you.”

 

More than anything, that seemed to brighten Skye’s smile. “Really? Cool. Thanks. Hey, you got big plans for this evening?”

 

He shook his head. “Not really. Another meeting, another operation.” Phil grabbed his lanyard and slipped it into his back pocket. “I meant what I said, get some rest. Maybe call Lincoln.”

 

Skye’s cheeks flushed pink. So far he’d ignored the large phone bill to Cincinnati. If calling Lincoln helped Skye, he was willing to overlook it for a little while longer. Discussing May and Lincoln seemed to have brightened his youngest agent, and Skye was grinning as they headed out into the hall.

 

“Have a good night, Coulson. Don’t work too hard.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

Phil waved goodbye to Skye as the brunette threaded her way through the halls. She would be okay. They _all_ would be okay. It would just take some time. _Time._ Phil looked down at his watch and cursed at where the hands were. _He was going to be so late._

 

\--

 

Driving Lola was still a challenge, even though it had been a month since he’d been fitted with a replacement hand. A string of favours had been called in, and one day Phil had walked in to his office to find May in one chair and Doctor Helen Cho in another. It looked like his hand, felt a little like his hand too. But it wasn’t the same. It felt… _off._ There was no muscle memory. Sometimes the hand that had operated Lola since he was a teenager slipped.

 

But he made it in one piece, Lola pulling into a space out front. A young man walking past with his girlfriend admired the car, and Phil offered him a grin as he got out of the driver’s side. When he turned, however, that grin faded. Standing in front of him was a very pissed off spy with her arms crossed and a busted lip.

 

“You’re late.”

 

Phil locked Lola and walked up to the kerb. “I had to change.”

 

Melinda stared. “You’re still late.”

 

“You said I couldn’t wear a suit to the movies. I had to change!” Phil paused, letting out a breath. He took a beat to take her in. It had been two weeks since he’d last seen his best friend, and seeing her in one piece relaxed some part of him he didn’t realise was tense. “Hi, Melinda.”

 

“Hi, Phil.”

 

They stood on the kerb, neither one of them quite sure what to do or how to act. When they were younger, Melinda would have slung her arm around his neck and dragged them both in the direction of the entrance. But now she stood, arms still crossed and fingers still tentative. Phil’s own hand flexed – the good hand – and he reached out to touch her shoulder. Her eyes immediately jumped to his.

 

“Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

 

Phil didn’t miss Melinda’s smile as they turned, joining the stream of people heading into the multiplex. Dressed in slacks and a casual shirt, Phil looked like any civilian going to the movies after a hard day’s work. Melinda stood out: a black leather jacket and a bruised lip were hard to hide. But no one really looked twice at them. They were two ordinary people, two ordinary friends, out for a night at the movies.

 

“Do you remember the last time we did this?” Phil asked, passing a cardboard cut-out for the summer’s big animation flick. “Do you think they’ve improved the special effects since then?”

 

Melinda nodded, her eyes darting all over the place. Phil wasn’t sure whether she was looking for threats or just taking it all in. He wanted to take it all in. “I remember we saw _Jurassic Park_. The first one.”

 

“That was in ninety three! Damn, it has been a long time.” Phil was sure it hadn’t been _that_ long. But, maybe it had. After they graduated from the Academy, the two of them had been inseparable. They’d done it all: movies, theatre, concerts, road trips. As they both grew older and their boundaries changed, their outings had become more infrequent. _But had it really been that long?_

 

A hand suddenly grabbed his wrist. Phil turned sharply towards Melinda, expecting trouble. But there was no trouble. Just an answer. _“Hostel_. We saw _Hostel_.”  

 

Phil momentarily gagged. “I remember. Andrew wouldn’t go with you so you dragged me along. Always knew Andrew was the smarter of the two of us.”

 

Melinda scoffed. “It’s a _good_ movie.”

 

“No, _no. Casablanca_ is a good movie. _Hostel_ is _trash._ ”

 

His best friend smirked as they joined a queue to get their tickets. “You’re just upset because you threw up.”

 

Phil opened his mouth, trying to find a retort. But as he stared at Melinda, watching her eyes shine as they bantered, he fell silent. _This_ he remembered. Maybe not all the movies, maybe not all the concerts. But he remembered _this_. Melinda and Phil. It had been a long time since they had just been them. As they both fell silent, Phil could see that she remembered too.

 

\--

 

Phil wasn’t sure which one of them had come up with the idea. It had been born out of too many tequila shots the night Melinda had returned from her vacation. Somewhere between arguments, between heated moments of silence, the Tuesday Date Night had been born. Melinda had rolled her eyes at the name, but Phil couldn’t think of anything else to describe what they were doing. Friendship Investment sounded too weird. But it was the first thing that felt right in a long, _long_ time.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for the tickets?”

 

Melinda shook her head. “I told you yesterday, the tickets are on me. You can pay for the popcorn.”

 

“Deal.”

 

Phil grinned as they left the ticket queue and crossed the foyer to the concession stand. Little kids dressed as Captain America and Thor rushed past them to meet their parents. To these people, the Avengers were superheroes, gods. Something not quite _real._ But he and Melinda had fought aliens, stood before gods, seen things that special effects couldn’t even generate. Yet here they stood, waiting in line to get popcorn. Phil brushed his knuckles across his chest without thinking, the numbness of his new skin brushing against the hollow of his chest.

 

“Phil?”

 

He shook it off, barely glancing at Melinda. He didn’t want to see her worry. “I’m okay.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see she didn’t look convinced.  “ _I’m okay._ Are you okay?” He gestured to her lip. “Want to tell me how that happened?”

 

“Picked a fight.”

 

“With who?”

 

Melinda shot him a glare just before they hit the concession stand. “You know the rules. No shop talk.”

 

Phil nodded, conceding immediately. Once upon a time they would share mission reports over a cup of coffee, maybe a beer. But things had changed since the Iliad. It wasn’t just _Date Night,_ but it was Melinda running her own team, Melinda running across the world. She made her own calls, directed her own missions. Her report would be on his desk tomorrow morning and he’d get his answer then. Maybe one day, in a bar with a different beer, he’d hear Melinda tell this story. It wouldn’t be _shop talk,_ then. Just another one of their many stories.

 

They reached the front of the queue quickly, Phil getting his wallet open and ready. “Hi there, could I get some Twizzlers, some Milk Duds, one of your _really_ big sodas and the largest popcorn you have? Just salted, please.” Phil turned to Melinda. “Melinda, what drink do you want?”

 

“It’s okay, I’ll share yours.”

 

Phil nodded. “Okay then. Throw in a hot dog, too, I’m _starving._ ”

 

The cashier went to prepare their order, Phil pulling out the notes to cover their snacks. Melinda took the big tub of popcorn first; and Phil did not miss how she pushed a few kernels into her mouth when she thought he wasn’t looking. He paid the cashier, grabbing the soda in his good hand and the hot dog in the other. The sweets he put on top of Melinda’s outlandishly large tub.

 

“That’s a lot of popcorn.” Phil reached out to steal a couple of pieces but Melinda pulled away. “What, I’m not allowed any?”

 

Melinda shook her head. “You’ve got Twizzlers. You don’t need popcorn.”

 

“ _Seriously?”_ Phil kept watching Melinda as they handed their tickets to the usher. “Seriously, not even one piece?”

 

She shrugged as they walked into the belly of the multiplex. “Maybe one piece.”

 

Phil smiled, laughter bubbling up in his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had so much fun together _._ Before the Iliad, Phil hadn’t realised there was anything to fix. Now, being out with Melinda again, he realised that their friendship had been broken for a while.

 

“This is fun,” he said, looking over and smiling at Melinda. “Isn’t this fun?”

 

He would never be able to describe how happy he felt at the sight of her smile. “It is.”

 

\--

 

Melinda had chosen the seats. She always knew the best angle to enjoy the movie, and Phil wondered if her specialist training came into it. He didn’t ask her as they took their seats, just put the overly large soda in between them and snatched some popcorn whilst his friend wasn’t looking. This was not a night for shop talk. This wasn’t even a night for stories. They were here to watch an overly dramatized movie based on historical events, with Melinda glaring at him every time he got overzealous with the historical facts.

 

He couldn’t wait.

 

They settled down, popcorn in Melinda’s lap and an open pack of milk duds already in Phil’s hand. He used to love going to the movies as a kid, his father would always buy him Milk Duds and Twizzlers, whilst his father would have a couple of boxes of Goobers to himself. They’d go see a double feature every Saturday. He didn’t remember much about his father, but he remembered that. Melinda was one of the few who knew that story. Just like he was one of the few that knew about her father taking her to the ballet.

 

“You okay?” Phil asked, punctuating the murmured silence as the seats were filled behind them.

 

Melinda nodded. “I’m fine. Glad to be home.”

 

“I’m glad you’re home too. Things haven’t been the same.” Melinda threw him a look, not quite believing his words. But they were true. Something about the base didn’t feel right without Melinda there. “Skye’s been asking about you. Asking when you’re coming home. She misses you.”

 

Another look; a stronger look. “Don’t push.”

 

Phil swallowed. He’d been trying so hard not to interfere. Melinda and Skye’s relationship was their business. But he didn’t want them to lose each other. Before Puerto Rico, they had been _close._ Now they could barely say two words to each other. As much as he would like to push, Phil dropped it. Now wasn’t the time. “Can I have some popcorn?”

 

“No.”

 

 

Before Phil could protest, the large screen in front of them crackled and sprung to life. As the room darkened, Melinda tensed. He’d seen her counting exits; he’d seen her scanning faces for any she recognised. He couldn’t tell her they were safe. But he couldn’t let her sit and wait for trouble. 

In the dark he reached out, hand resting atop of hers. Phil felt her hand tense, and then relax. It was only for a moment, but for that moment her thumb brushed the length of his hand. For a moment, in the dark, Phil felt something being mended.

 

Then the screens changed, a car advertisement replacing the screaming sounds of the soft drink ad. Their moment was broken, Melinda’s hands both safely tucked around the sides of her popcorn. But as the movie pushed into the trailers, she tipped it to him. He dug his hand in, both of them sharing a smile as they shared her popcorn.

 

\--

 

“And another thing – Cap didn’t rescue them in the summer but in the middle of _winter._ Any idiot with a history book would have known that!” Phil shook his head as they left the multiplex. “The Smithsonian has an entire exhibit on him! You’re not telling me no one from the movie went!”

 

Phil twisted his head to see Melinda trailing after him, watching him with an amused expression. He’d suggested seeing another movie, but Melinda had been adamant that they were getting tickets to see _Captain America: The First Avenger._ She hadn’t glared at him as much as he’d expected, had just sat beside him and smiled. She even offered him popcorn after any particularly loud outburst. It was like she was rewarding him for being unprofessional.

 

“Did you enjoy the movie?” Phil asked, finally letting himself breath.

 

Melinda, surprisingly, nodded. “I did. But I think I enjoyed the company more.”

 

Phil smiled, feeling his cheeks warm at her comment. “I know what you mean.”

 

They walked out of the multiplex and headed for the parking lot. Lola was where he’d left her, thankfully without a scratch on her. Looking down the lot, Phil could spot Melinda’s motorcycle. This was the part where they went their separate ways. He would go back to the Playground, sleep for a little while before his thoughts woke him up. Melinda would stay at one of their safe houses, coming back tomorrow morning until she was away again for who knows how long. It seemed a shame to end the night so early when neither of them had any clue when their next Tuesday night would be.

 

“Are you hungry?” Phil asked, sitting on the hood of Lola. “I mean, do you want to go grab a bite to eat? Like a pizza or something?”

 

Melinda bobbed her head. “I’d like that.”

 

“Great.” Phil crossed his arms, uncertain of what was to come next. Things between them were still awkward. They’d almost forgotten how to be friends. But they would get there. It would just take some time. “You know, that pizzeria is only a couple of blocks over. The one we used to eat at all the time?”

 

“Sounds good. You drive; I’ll pay for the pie.”

 

Phil grinned. “Deal.”

 

He picked himself up off Lola and opened the driver’s side door. Melinda slipped into the passenger seat, leaning back against the leather. Phil took a moment before he started the ignition to look across at his best friend. At _Melinda._ Tomorrow they would be back to Coulson and May, back to shop talk and saving the world. But right now they were driving to get pizza. Two friends, out for dinner and a movie. Nothing more.


End file.
